


Calling All Angels

by Ethereal_Wishes



Category: Once Upon a Time (TV)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-01-28
Updated: 2016-01-28
Packaged: 2018-05-16 21:55:38
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,733
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5842369
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ethereal_Wishes/pseuds/Ethereal_Wishes
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>After the loss of his son, Raymond Gold turns to alcohol to mask his pain. His wife Belle decides that if he doesn't get help that their marriage might be over. He decides to get help and checks himself into a rehab facility where he has an encounter that will change his life forever.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Calling All Angels

**A/AN: Well it's good to be back. It's been awhile since I've written anything, so I thought I would start with something fresh. I can't promise when or if I'll get back to my other works since I haven't been inspired to write them for a long time. I apologize for that. This new story is inspired by some real experiences friends/family have dealt with. It's really different from what I typically write but its basic message is based on the hope and deliverance Christ offers us through redemption. I know this story won't be everyone's "cup of tea" and that's fine. You aren't obligated to read it. This story will start out "dark" but will get better as it progresses. There will be issues addressed like alcoholism, childhood death, etc. I will put a trigger warning at the beginning of each chapter for sensitive subject matter. Each chapter will be between 4K-8K because a lot will be addressed and dealt with in each chapter. I'm not an alcoholic, and I'm not trying to take away/diminish the travesty of those experiences. My prayer is that everyone who reads this will find a gleam of hope in their situations no matter what they've been through.**

**Disclaimer: I don't own OUAT or any of its characters. All properties belong to ABC.**

**Triggers: There are mentions of alcoholism and childhood death in this chapter.**

He stumbled up the steps before clumsily jamming his key in the lock. He turned it four times before it opened. Feeling disoriented and sluggish, he practically tripped through the door. He ran his fingers through his disheveled graying hair as he fumbled for the light switch. He shielded his eyes from the bright fluorescents, becoming queasy from the exposure. The grandfather clock in the foyer chimed twice, letting him know it was two in the morning. He managed to steady himself against the table, taking off his shoes and tossing his suit jacket aside until only his dress shirt and slacks remained.

He staggered to the sink, craving a cold glass of water. He opened the cabinet, pulling out a glass but jumping back when it shattered to the floor. He cursed under his breath, reaching for a dishtowel beside the faucet to clean up the mess.

"Ray is that you?" a tired voice resounded from the doorway. He jumped upon hearing the intrusion. "Uh yes midear but dunt worry, I'm fine." he slurred in his thick brogue. A woman with brown chestnut curls piled in a messy bun approached him. He tried to focus on her beautiful face but everything kept blurring together.

"You're drunk." she observed, a look of dissatisfaction eclipsing her features.

"I may have had a few." he shrugged almost tripping over a chair. He heard her sigh heavily as she placed an arm around his shoulder to steady him, leading him towards the couch. He collapsed on the sofa, hiccuping loudly.

"Don't move. Let me get you an aspirin." she commanded. She prodded back into the kitchen returning with a cool glass of water and an aspirin. He threw back the small white pill, greedily chasing it back with the cool liquid. He sighed in relief as the liquid cascaded down his throat raw from too much whiskey.

He handed her the glass. She placed it on the coffee table, settling down beside him. She carded her fingers through his wispy brown hair aimlessly staring at her disheveled husband. "Is this ever going to stop Ray?" she questioned him absentmindedly.

"Sometimes I just need to forget Belle...The alcohol helps me forget for awhile." he mumbled softly.

She sighed placing a warm kiss against his cheek, "It's been five years Ray and all you're doing is masking the pain. You need to deal with it and move on." she sighed, smoothing out her nightgown.

"I can't...You know that more than anyone." he muttered incoherently through heavy breaths. Once Belle realized he was asleep, she sauntered back into the kitchen to clean up the broken glass. She grabbed the broom and proceeded to sweep the broken pieces into a dustpan. She dumped the remnants into the trash before collapsing in a chair. She rubbed her throbbing temples, the grandfather clock chiming three times, signaling another hour had passed.

Nights like tonight weren't uncommon for Belle, but they were becoming more frequent. She was married to Raymond Gold, the wealthiest man in all of Storybrooke. He was an antiques dealer and land owner and originated from old money. The Gold fortune had been steadily built over the last three hundred years after one of his ancestors settled in the quaint town of Maine. Seventy percent of the land in Storybrooke belonged to the Gold family while the rest of it was the town's property along with a few private investors. Raymond leased out most of it to the townsfolk, collecting monthly rent from each one.

Belle had grown up in Storybrooke her entire life and overseen the local library downtown. She and Raymond had marred ten years ago when she was fresh out of high school. Most people didn't approve of their relationship because he was nearly fifteen years her senior, but Belle didn't mind. She was known for breaking many of the social norms her little town clung to. She and Ray had met when she began working in his shop when she was just sixteen to catch up on her father's debts.

Everyone had warned her that working for Mr. Gold would lead to no good. The townsfolk had painted this perception in her mind that he was some cruel taskmaster who would work her like a slave, but they had been wrong. Raymond Gold had been polite and quiet from the beginning, giving her menial tasks to complete. She'd started off dusting the shelves and reorganizing inventory. She would come in a couple hours each day after school, busying herself with whatever he seen fit to assign her.

Three months after she began working for him, their first real conversation sparked over an antique book of Grimm's Fairy Tales. After that day, their talks became more regular and things slowly began to change between them. The early beginnings of their budding romance began over a soft brush of hands when a shelf of books had fallen in the backroom. She'd scurried to pick them up when his hand had lightly touched hers in an effort to pick up the same novel. Blue and brown eyes locked, leading to a soft brush of lips. She'd awkwardly apologized for the mishap, her eyes wide with surprise when he leaned in for a second kiss. Thinking back to that time still gave her butterflies because it was in that moment she began to fall for him.

They kept their relationship a secret, going out of town on the weekends to have dinner so they wouldn't be seen. Belle never felt like she clicked with any of her classmates so when he proposed to her three months before graduation, she'd said yes. Belle turned down three out of state scholarships, opting for community college instead. They wed a week after her graduation, spending an exotic honeymoon in Barbados.

After wedding Raymond Gold things became complicated between she and her father. He stopped talking to her after several heated arguments, including most of the townsfolk. Raymond was a friendless town pariah other than the two close friends he had since grade school: David Nolan and Jefferson Hatter. Jefferson kept to himself mostly but came by to play cards once a month if it suited him. He was a widower with a middle school aged daughter named Grace. He'd lost his wife tragically during childbirth and had rapidly recoiled from society. Belle enjoyed spending time with Grace and sometimes Jefferson would let her keep her on the weekends. David owned the local cannery and was married to a modest school teacher named Mary Margret. Mary Margret and Belle had coffee together sometimes, and she was the closest thing to a 'friend' she had besides Ray.

Belle was content with her quiet life with Ray and a year into their marriage, she became pregnant with a son that brought more joy to their lives than she could imagine. Five years latet everything changed when their son had wandered into the street to retrieve his red ball. It was a rainy day in April, and the teacher's assistant had grown weary of watching the preschoolers deciding to let them burn some energy off by playing in the rain. The young woman became distracted, checking her tweets and facebook status updates when tragedy struck. The driver slammed on his brakes when he seen Bailey picking up the ball but it was too late. The driver hit their son, killing him on impact.

The whole town camouflaged it as being a 'tragically unavoidable' accident. They fought tooth and nail until the teacher's assistant was fired from her job and sent away to a correctional facility for six months. The driver became so distraught with what he'd done that he drunk himself to death which was what her husband was slowly doing.

Belle wiped her tears on her sleeve but inevitably more came until she was reduced to a sobbing heap, laying her head on the dining room table.

~X~

Belle warily opened her eyes when she heard the clock chime. She blinked back sleep until the digital clock on the microwave became clear. It was only 6:15 and all she wanted to do was climb back into bed, but she needed to check on her husband. It was Saturday morning but on Friday nights, he liked to visit the local bar in town for a drink which usually resulted in six or seven. She had tried intercepting the problem many times but had failed. All her husband wanted to do was drink, and she soon realized that was how he 'coped' with the loss of their son.

Belle turned to her books and began to write feverishly after Bailey's death, and she hoped her husband would turn to a more stable means of expressing his grief, but he didn't. Belle knew her husband drank at the bar on Friday nights, but she knew that wasn't the only time he did. She'd found empty whiskey bottles littering the back room of his shop. He tried to hide his addiction at first but after the tenth time of arriving home in a drunken stupor, he stopped.

Six months after his death, they'd treated themselves to a long overdue vacation but it hadn't helped. There would always be a lingering void in their lives from the loss of their son but alcohol wasn't the answer. Spending time with Grace made Belle long to be a mother again, but she very well couldn't do that with Ray's state of addiction.

She smoothed out her nightgown, sauntering into the living room. She was surprised to see her husband staring blankly off into the distance. She noticed his eyes fixated on a picture of their son when he was three.

Belle walked over to the picture, plucking it off the wall. She rubbed traces of dust from the frame before settling down beside him. He didn't say anything when she placed the portrait in his lap.

"Look at those big brown eyes and tufts of curl." she sighed dreamily, tracing her finger over her son's childish features.

"My boy..." He whispered hoarsely before an onslaught of tears raced down his cheeks. Belle grabbed her husband, holding onto him tentatively as he wept.

"It's okay Ray...I'm here." she whispered, rubbing his back consolingly. She was flabbergasted when he pushed her away, scoffing harshly.

"YOU FOOLISH WOMAN! DON'T YOU SEE THAT HE'S NEVER COMING BACK!?" he roared throwing the picture against the wall. Belle whimpered when it shattered into a million pieces.

"Please Ray don't-" she pleaded as he began to rip pictures off the wall and throw ceramics on the floor. He barged into the kitchen, throwing every dish he could find on the ground, the sound of breaking glass muffling her cries. She watched her husband in all his rage destroy their beautiful home until he came to one final cup.

The cup was white with a blue floral design on it. A tiny chip marred the rim from when their son had dropped it years ago. A flood of memories assaulted him as he ran his index finger over the chipped rim. He made a choking sound, cradling the delicate teacup against his chest. Belle watched him fall in a heap on the floor. She darted around the broken glass carefully, precariously wrapping her arms around him, but he didn't object this time.

"Belle I'm so sorry... I'm a failure in every sense of the word. You deserve so much better than what I've been giving you. There's a whole world out there for you Belle and someone more deserving of your love." he sobbed against her night dress.

"I don't want anyone else Ray...You're the only one I want, and I wish you could see that, but I will not watch you drink yourself to death. You have to stop drinking, or I'm afraid I won't be able to stay with you. _Our_ son wouldn't want this. You have to pull yourself together." she spoke unevenly but in her bravest voice.

It seemed like an eternity had passed before he spoke, and she was almost afraid to hear his answer but then he did, "I'll do it." he conceded in an almost whisper.

"You will?" she cried, afraid that she'd only imagined it.

"I will..." he replied, allowing her to help him to his feet. She brushed a few stray tears from his eyes, leading him out of the kitchen.

"Let me help you with this mess." he insisted reaching for a trashcan, but she shook her head, snatching it from his grasp.

"Let me do it...Just go upstairs and get some rest. I'll make you some breakfast later if you want and then I'll get on the phone with one of those rehab centers." she finished. He nodded, retreating for the stairs. Belle put the trashcan aside, pulling out her cellphone, dialing the number of a renowned rehab facility Mary Margret had given her. It was one of the best in the country that didn't just deal with a person's addiction but their spiritual health as well. Belle knew that her husband wasn't a big believer in God, but she'd heard so many great things about this facility that she wanted him to go there. Her mother was a devout protestant while her father was catholic. They never really took her to church much , but she had gone to mass with her father a few times and to church on and off with her mother when she was a little girl. Her mother had passed away when she was eleven and despite praying hard to a God she barely knew anything about, she had died. Belle didn't give much thought about God since what little faith she possessed had been devastated. After Bailey passed away, she began to think more about heaven. She was certain that her son was in heaven if it was real. Belle surmised heaven must be full of children because her son had made her life more heavenly just by being in his presence. The thought of her son residing somewhere on the 'other side' made her wonder more about God. She'd found a childrens' bible her mother had given her and began to read it. It made her feel closer to her mother than ever before and it stirred something inside of her, and she found herself doing something she hadn't done in a long time. She prayed. She prayed for her faith to be restored, and she prayed that her husband would find the courage to give up his addiction.

"Hello this is Angel Wings Rehab facility, may I help you?" inquired a woman in a thick accent on the other line.

"Yes, my name is Belle Gold, and I'd like to make an appointment." She respired ready for a new beginning.

**A/AN: Well there's the prologue for you! I hope you enjoyed it. Reviews are lovely if you wish to leave one.**


End file.
